


Dilemma

by orphan_account



Category: Tuff Puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Keswick spills a dangerous substance upon himself he fears the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dilemma

Keswick's emerge-gen-C

" _I'm uh, sorry everyone," Keswick apologized; he collapsed to the floor realizing the mistake he made was a matter of life or death._

_Inside TUFF laboratories he had kept to himself as he worked with a dangerous and corrosive chemical that could possibly assist his friends against their sworn enemies. Only he wasn't counting on the slight miscalculation that resulted in a nasty mishap that would expose him to danger._

He inhaled it, probably even ingested some of it, no wait, Keswick gagged, probably not despite he had his mouth open the whole time. His internal organs didn't feel like they were dissolving, at least his death wouldn't be completely painful.

Scratch that.

He clutched his shirt inhaling and exhaling deep ragged breathes until he was forced to make short quick gasps, he felt so oxygen starved. Maybe he'd asphyxiate himself to death instead; he could feel his chest tighten. The neon green acid he was creating had spilt onto his starched and pressed white lab coat. Not only did it cover his chest, but his arms and hands causing multiple acidic burn wounds which left him virtually helpless.

No tears, this wasn't the time for that, Keswick couldn't muster the strength as his vitals began failing. His tears ducts were dry as he contemplated the estimated time of his own death would occur; he hoped it would be swift and painless. Too weak to drag himself to the chemical shower that was in his line of vision, he was good as dead. Besides in his condition it was best not to chance it; he couldn't stand let alone let himself sit underneath a heavy spray of gushing water.

It'd be too dangerous.

He needed help.

"An-an-anybody," he rasped, desperately he pounded the floor with his hand trying to make some noise. "anybody within shouting distance-" he coughed. "can hear me, please-I don't think I can hold on much longer-" he panted, he needed to save what little breath he had left inside him, the sentence was all he could manage.

" _This really is it,"_  he thought, he could feel his heart hammer inside his chest. This couldn't be the end, really it couldn't, and he didn't want to believe it to be true. Something as the finality of death, an inescapable fate he was sure he had sealed. This fear could not be dispelled, wracked with worry he understood unlike The Chief's resilience his chances of survival was dropping by seconds that passed. He could make no argument, he couldn't gripe, or even complain about the circumstances that befell him, besides he was a dying man, what would it accomplish? He subjected himself to an occupational hazard and now he here he was ready to accept it.

**Let him suffer DOOM would say!**

**Let him see how it feels!**

**He deserves it!**

**Serves him right!**

His enemies would delight in his death; they'd probably go to the trouble of hanging his obituary on their walls just to spite TUFF. His legacy, his inventions were all he had to his name and would be all he'd leave behind.

This wasn't fair.

He couldn't let this happen, no, he didn't want it to end this way, and he denied it. People, there were people he cared about, he couldn't leave them. He thought about the closure he so desperately wanted to obtain concerning his strained relationship with his parents.

How could he have been so careless?

Now as this acid was slowly eating away at his body so was his conscience. He felt so conflicted; it was either live or die. There was no use in torturing himself anymore if he had to die, then he must and let everyone get on with the rest of their existences.'

On the verge of blacking out he could hear them, voices, they sounded familiar as his vision stretched and blurred. He figured they were auditory hallucinations, something his mind devised to keep him from losing his precious sanity.

If it would only let him ease into a sleep he'd never awake from.

Then yes, it made him feel content just to know he was surrounded by imaginary individuals that sounded like Kitty, Dudley, and The Chief, all of them screaming his name.

He soon drifted away into unconsciousness.

_ _ ~.~_ _

"He's coming around," The Chief happily exclaimed.

"Finally," Dudley yelled.

"Shut up," Kitty complained to her obnoxiously loud partner. "don't you remember what the nurse told you she'd do if you didn't stop using your outside voice?"

"She  _threatened_  me, Kitty," Dudley said in barely a whisper. " _threatened_  being the key word and she swore she'd use a needle next time, a needle!" he sounded terrified.

"Good, keep it up," Kitty teased, she smiled exposing her dangerously sharp canines.

The Chief groaned. "if you both don't stop it I'll throw both of you out of this hospital room," he warned. "I'll see to it you'll be doing menial labor! How does cafeteria work sound?"

Neither of them dared to speak.

Keswick was only piecing together the conversation he had the privilege of overhearing. His mind was still trying to comprehend the logistics of beating the mortality rate associated with the acid that claimed millions of lives.

He felt so relieved.

His eyes suddenly fluttered opened as his friends stood around his bed giving him their warm welcomes.

"Hey, Keswick" Kitty said trying to make light conversation, her green eyes watering. She wanted to reach out and hug Keswick, but decided against it, his arms and hands were swathed with bandages. So she settled to purr softly while Dudley and The Chief carried on their own conversation.

Keswick cleared his throat then asked. "how long has it been?"

He couldn't believe the gift baskets he received from well-wishers that were sitting upon his night stand. The cheery get well cards strung across the door frame, candy's wrapped in colorful cellophane, and all of them were for him.

He felt overwhelmed by such kindness and the fact that TUFF was extending their thoughts and prayers to him.

"Five days to say the least," The Chief explained calmly. "we'd thought, we all thought you weren't going to make it, and thanks."

"Thanks for wha-wha-wha- what," Keswick said, clearly confused. What was The Chief thanking him for? He didn't accomplish anything important.

"For hanging in there," Dudley said, giving him a thumb's up. "and besides it's boring without you!" he groused. "All we've got is those blasters for cripes sake! When you get back we gotta spice it up a little!"

Keswick chuckled, blushing furiously. "well, geez if you put it that way."

"Think nothing of it," Kitty murmured. "we're all just really happy."

"Now let's celebrate," Dudley howled, throwing his arms into the air, the celebratory howl was short lived.

When the nurse that dealt with him on a previous occasion came bursting through the door. She was angry and holding a syringe with the intent on injecting it into Dudley's bloodstream.

"Should I be running," Dudley asked, as he listened to the apprehensive silence that meant something bad was going to happen.

Keswick, Kitty, and The Chief nodded yes.

"Well, then I gotta split," Dudley ran out of the room and into the hallway to evade the nurse that followed after him.

 


End file.
